“That you haven’t figured out that it was all a lie,” Benedict said, practically scoffing. “Your father manufactured a reason to send me away. I was a threat to him as I came of age, because I’m the rightful heir to the estate.”
Elliot considered this for a minute. It made a lot of sense. Of course her father would feel threatened as the boy he’d fed and housed and clothed grew old enough to take over his birthright. After all, Elliot herself had been de facto running the estate since her early teens. Could not Benedict have run it as he’d been supposed to? She wondered what would have happened if he’d been allowed to take over. Would the North estate have been in better hands? Would it be now?
Seeing her reaction, he smiled. “Come now, Elliot. I’m not here to start a fight. I have made peace with your father. I’ve learned much more these past years traveling the islands—seeing the estates and the enclaves—than I ever could have trapped up here in the north. Uncle Zachariah’s so-called punishment has made me a rich man on my own terms.”
“How fortunate for you.” And if that was the case, that he neither needed the estate nor wanted it, then why did he bother to return?
“I am fortunate, and your father knows it. The past is . . . an embarrassment to him, and I have promised not to call him out for it.”
Why? Elliot didn’t know if she’d be so gracious, and unlike Kai, she doubted her father had the money to pay Benedict off. She wondered if Benedict was receiving something else—a promise to give up rights to the estate sometime soon?
“But I do not want you laboring under a false assumption. I have no interest in the Reduced women on this farm. I never did.” He leaned forward. “In other words, you do not need to chase away that little redhead.”
Benedict stepped back, satisfied. “And now that we’ve cleared the air, I’ll ask again—would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the Boatwright house so that I may meet the neighbors?”
Not my neighbors, Elliot noted. Was he here to take back the estate? Regardless, she shook her head. “I can’t. I have too much work to do.”
“What do you have to do?” Benedict asked. “I’ll help. And when we finish in half the time, you’ll take me to the Boatwright house.”
Her eyes widened, but her cousin was completely serious.
“Do not let it be said I’m shirking my duties here.”
Elliot examined his fine coat and his city-softened hands. He wanted to know what it took to manage the North estate? Fine. She’d show him, and he’d be far too tired to drag her back to the Fleet.
Twenty-seven
BENEDICT TOOK ELLIOT BY surprise. He hauled feed bags and curried horses and helped her check on the supply of food and other goods at the Reduced barracks. He made the rounds with her as she visited each of the remaining Posts, and smiled and chatted with all of them, even those who were suspicious and openly hostile.
“It’s funny,” he said to her as they traveled from cottage to cottage. “There does not seem to be much love for your father among the CORs on the estate, but they are still willing to believe his story.”
“We tend to call them Posts now, as they desire,” Elliot said.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Benedict’s expression was jovial. “COR sounds so artificial in my mouth, but it’s the terminology your father uses. Not much of a surprise.”
Elliot was silent, as every minute a new theory bloomed in her mind. Did he hope to win the North Posts to his side in a potential battle over his inheritance? Did he hope to win her over, too? One thing was clear, her cousin was no fool. It had taken him no time at all to assess how things worked on the estate. Of course, Admiral Innovation had told her when he first arrived that it was well known throughout the islands that Elliot was the only person to get things done here. Perhaps Benedict had known it long before he arrived.
Perhaps he thought the workers’ lack of loyalty to Baron North would be an easy way to reclaim what was his.
“When I was younger,” he said, “I didn’t realize why they preferred to be called Posts. Living in the enclave down in Channel City taught me the difference. A ‘Child of the Reduction’ is just that—an offshoot of the Reduced, a juvenile, and still inextricably linked to his ancestor’s limitations. There is also the theory very popular on a few of the estates in the south that CORs are nothing more than the product of illicit Luddite liaisons with the Reduced. That they never overcame the Reduction on their own at all. You can imagine how the term might be offensive to the Posts.”
She didn’t have to imagine. She’d met Andromeda.
“But a Post-Reductionist . . .” Benedict raised his eyebrows in appreciation. “That’s something else entirely. A Post has moved past his humble beginnings. A Post is looking at the future, and not the past.” He regarded Elliot. “I assume these Cloud Fleet Posts are filled with the same sort of boundless optimism?”
“They are focused on the future, yes,” Elliot replied safely, as they walked on.
“Little wonder,” said Benedict. “There isn’t much in the past that they’d find appealing. But even I, born a Luddite, prefer the potential of the future. Don’t you, cousin?”
Elliot was so taken aback by his bluntness that she nodded before she could stop herself.
“I knew we’d see eye to eye. You think like me. You know, watching the enclaves grow these last ten years from tiny shantytowns filled with beggars and thieves to prosperous neighborhoods, seeing the success of Posts like your Fleet, it isn’t hard to read the writing on the wall.”
“Oh really?” Elliot asked. She ignored his use of “your Fleet.” It was not hers. Certainly not.
“The Post-Reductionists are right.” Benedict nodded with certainty. “The Reduction is coming to a close.”
Elliot was rendered speechless. She’d never heard anyone talk such heresy. And certainly not a Luddite.
“For now,” Benedict continued, “Posts who are dissatisfied with their estates have merely run away, but mark my words, revolution is coming. Perhaps not here, but on other estates. Estates where the Luddite lords’ mistreatment veers into cruelty. Or maybe just when there are so many free Posts that the Luddites can no longer maintain control. Do you know where you want to be when that happens, Elliot?”
“Here,” said Elliot immediately. “If there’s an uprising, then the Reduced on the estate are in danger.”
Benedict blinked several times, as if surprised by her response.
“The Reduced haven’t died off yet,” she added. And, even by the most generous estimates, only one in twenty children born to a Reduced was a Post. It would be many generations, if ever, before the Reduction could truly be over.
But Benedict still wore an odd expression, and sheepishly Elliot realized what he’d meant by his question. He’d been asking which side she’d choose, not who she’d choose to protect. She ducked her head in embarrassment.
“Perhaps we should go to the Boatwright estate now,” he said, smirking, and Elliot was too flustered to protest.
“I’m glad to see that the Norths have mended their breach with the Groves,” Benedict was saying as they took the path through the forest. “I saw Horatio Grove down in Channel City last year, and I wasn’t sure if I should approach him or not.”
“Relations have been good between us ever since Horatio and Olivia’s father died,” said Elliot. “I always gathered that my father’s argument was with him, personally, but neither the Grove children nor my sister and I ever knew what it was about, so it seemed foolish to continue holding grudges from the last generation.”
Benedict grinned. “You really don’t know? Well, I guess I’m here to reveal the truth behind all the family secrets, then.”
Elliot stopped on the path. “What do you mean?”
He chuckled. “Elliot. You’re serious?” When she made no response, he continued. “It never occurred to you to wonder why your mother, who was as capable a woman as anyone ever knew, would marry a man like your father?”
/> Of course it had. “Are you saying that my mother was in love with old Mr. Grove?”
“I’m saying your mother was engaged to marry him.” Benedict nodded as Elliot’s mouth gaped open. “Oh, yes. I remember going to their betrothal party when I was very, very young.”
“Then why didn’t they get married?”
“Because my father died.”
Elliot stared at him in disbelief, but there was no deception in his words or face.
“The North estate is the largest one on this side of the island.”
“You’re saying my mother left Mr. Grove for my father because he was richer?” Little wonder Kai had offered to pay her off. She came from a long line of women for whom love was nothing in the face of money.
“No!” Benedict burst out laughing. “Because they all thought that marriage to her would help keep Uncle Zachariah in line. The Boatwrights and the Groves—they needed the North estate to survive. If it were to fail, then not only would the people living on the North lands starve, but everyone else would suffer as well. You know that. You’re just like your mother.”
No, Benedict was surely not stupid. He knew precisely what to say. She used to lie awake nights, hoping her mother would have approved of the choice she’d made four years ago. Now she knew it for certain. She and her mother were the same—she’d given up the person she loved for the good of the North estate. And her father had never associated with his neighbor because of Mr. Grove’s history with his wife.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know this. I thought it was the reason you’re still here.”
Elliot swallowed. “What do you mean?” Had he heard, down in the enclaves, that she’d once promised Kai she’d run away? Did he know every secret her family had ever held?
“If you didn’t think you needed to remain here and work, wouldn’t you want to marry Horatio and get out from under your father’s thumb?”
Now it was Elliot’s turn to laugh. He must have been talking to Tatiana. “Horatio Grove?” she joked. “You think he’d marry me?”
Benedict’s voice was soft when he replied, “Anyone would marry you, Elliot.”
Elliot was saved from responding by the sound of a horse’s hooves pounding down the path. A moment later, one of the giant Innovation horses came galloping toward them. Tatiana sat in the saddle. She pulled the beast up short before it mowed them down.
“Watch it!” she cried, scowling. Her sharp, pretty face looked pale. “What are you doing wandering around in the woods with Benedict?”
“We were going to the Boatwright house.”
“Me, too,” she said, flipping the reins in her hands. “We need Felicia back here at once. I hope she’s not so busy with Olivia that she can’t spare time for Grandfather.”
“What happened?” Elliot asked. “Tatiana, what happened?”
Tatiana gave an aggravated snort. “He had a stroke this morning, Elliot. Maybe if you’d been home instead of out socializing, you’d know that.”
TEN YEARS AGO
Dear Kai,
I’m sorry I can’t come see you today. My dad overheard me calling you and your dad Posts instead of CORs. He thinks I spend more time than is good for me with you and Ro. I don’t really understand it, personally. I mean, if we’re supposed to own the lands and take care of everyone who lives on it, doesn’t it make sense to be involved? To make sure we know every bit of the land and the people who work it as well as possible? My teachers are always going on and on about Luddite stuwart stewardship of the Earth—if that’s true, then shouldn’t we actually make sure that the Earth is being properly stewed?
I don’t think that’s the right word.
Your friend,
Elliot
Dear Elliot,
No, it’s not.
I’m bored here today. Whenever the harvest is in, there’s nothing much to do and there aren’t any good books in the COR library right now. There never are.
Not that that’s a hint or anything.
Your friend,
Kai
Dear Kai,
Here are some books. I think you’ll like the ones about the old inventors. I got them from our library. My dad must not know they are here. I’m sure he’d burn them if he did.
Your friend,
Elliot
Dear Elliot,
These are amazing! I love these stories. I love the one about Tesla and Edison. And Marconi, and the Curies, and Einstein, and Watson and Crick, and Gavin and Carlotta. The world must have been such a fascinating place before the Reduction. Can you imagine being allowed to make anything you wanted? I wonder if there’s anyplace on Earth where they still can.
Your friend,
Kai
Dear Kai,
I hope not! Can you imagine how dangerous that would be? Didn’t you read the part where Marie Curie died because of all the experiments she did with radiation? And Einstein was sorry he helped make the atomic bomb. Some experiments are okay, I guess, but there are too many that are way too dangerous.
Your friend,
Elliot
Dear Elliot,
But you don’t know they are too dangerous until later. Like Watson and Crick and Gavin and Carlotta—they were just trying to help people. They had no idea it would cause the Reduction.
Your friend,
Kai
Dear Kai,
My teachers say that’s why it’s best if you just don’t do anything that hasn’t been done before. That way you always know it’s safe.
Although now that I think about it, that’s kind of stupid. Nothing can ever be exactly the same. We plant wheat every year, year after year, but it’s always a bit different. Like a different tempratchure, or the amount of rain. And now we have CORs. When my grandfather was young, there weren’t any CORs. They were totally new, but we didn’t get rid of them.
And I’m really glad of that!
Your friend,
Elliot
Dear Elliot,
Me too! I would like it if things changed. Not being able to do experiments seems very dull to me. I’ve been hearing stories about places where Posts live all by themselves without any Luddites telling them what to do. They get married, they go wherever they want without permission, they have their own businesses, they have solar-powered lights, and they all wear clothes in brite bright colors. I wonder if they do experiments too?
One day I want to go live there.
Your friend,
Kai
Dear Kai,
Don’t go live in a Post enclave. I’d miss you if you went away.
We can do experiements here. We just have to keep them a secret from my father—or anyone that would tell on us. Like Tatiana.
Stay with me, Kai. I promise we can do whatever you want.
Your friend,
Elliot
Twenty-eight
ELLIOT SAT IN A stiff-backed chair in the hallway outside her grandfather’s bedroom. The light coming through the window turned from white to yellow to orange, the Reduced servants came around with candles, and still, Felicia Innovation remained sequestered with the Boatwright.
She’d barely been able to meet the woman’s eyes when she arrived at the house. This woman, who was responsible for creating abominations with human faces. This woman, who had risked the life of the person she cared for most in the world. This woman, who broke the protocols and placed them all in danger of another Reduction. Felicia had been kind to Elliot, and Ro, and her grandfather. She clearly cared for the Cloud Fleet captains, despite what she’d done to them. And, if Kai was to be believed, she’d only done it to save her beloved daughter’s life.
But there was still no excuse. It was an atrocity. Love didn’t matter. Neither did life or death. It didn’t.
It didn’t.
Elliot squeezed her hands together and pressed them hard into her lap, digging the ridges of her knuckles into her thighs. Every moment, she made herself a new promise.
If Tatiana comes down
the hall, I’ll stop her and make her kick Felicia out.
If Felicia tells me we can save my grandfather by breaking the protocols, I’ll let her.
If my father asks after my grandfather’s health, I’ll confess everything to him.
If the Cloud Fleet offers to help us, I’ll keep their secret forever.
No one came. Not her sister or her father, not Benedict or the Fleet Posts or even Admiral Innovation. No one appeared in the hall all afternoon but the mute, shuffling figures of the Reduced housemaids as they went about their chores. Time passed, and Elliot sat in the chair, waiting for the verdict from Felicia.
How much of her life had she spent waiting? Waiting for a plant to sprout? Waiting for her father’s judgment? Waiting for another letter to appear in the knothole from Kai? Waiting for years after Kai left to feel at peace with her decision? She fed the Reduced, she did her chores, she avoided her father and her sister, and she waited. She did the duties she’d been taught as a Luddite, and she lied with every breath.
Her grandfather, the man she was named for, the last person who could remind her of her mother—he couldn’t die. He couldn’t die before the Fleet was finished and he had one more chance to see a ship—Kai’s ship—launched from the Boatwright docks. He couldn’t die here, in the North’s back guest room instead of his own bed. He couldn’t die and leave her alone with her father and Tatiana and two estates counting on her, only her.
And then, as the sun dipped low over the horizon, the door to the Boatwright’s chamber opened, and Felicia Innovation emerged.
Elliot rose to her feet and steeled herself for the news—whatever it may be.
But Felicia’s expression was grim. “The most I can do is make sure he’s comfortable for his final days.”
“Really? Even you?” The words spilled out before Elliot could stop them.
For Darkness Shows the Stars Page 18
